


honeymoon

by thalmor



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Interracial Relationship, M/M, Mention of pregnancy, Trans Father, Trans Male Character, coryeldil has some unresolved sadness, gay old men, their bab siinarya.., they probably go cuddle afterwards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28748328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalmor/pseuds/thalmor
Summary: a love of abnur tharn from decade's past reunites with him in elsweyr. with old love comes old pain given way to new forgiveness
Relationships: Abnur Tharn/Original Character(s), Trans Male/Cis Male
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	honeymoon

**Author's Note:**

> abnur tharn is a thot, but like, a tired and old one

Abnur wordlessly stroked the other man's thigh with his thumb as Coryeldil propped himself up in the Imperial's hold, letting his dress drape off. Sleeves slipped downwards to the elbows, and then some. The air was thick with even more than Rimmen's plentiful incense. Where he had the skirt part of the fabric pulled back to take in more of his skin, the old man's fingers found scars on the mer's stomach, dimpled lines interrupting the relatively smooth skin. Coryeldil noticed the way he lingered, cupping the skin near to his navel, and scoffed out, edge in his voice. "That's from you."

From the way their previous discussions on the topic descended, Abnur found it within himself to choose his words wisely. "Ah," He noted upon understanding. 

The Altmer inhaled with his nose, and with an untying of what kept him robed, let the Khajiiti fabric fall further to the floor. Only his bottom half was left clothed in undergarment.  


Coryeldil fixed the old mage with his gaze, blinking almost in expectation, and Abnur confirmed approval with an enthusiastic quirk of his lips and his hand exploring his legs but was too in thought for much more. Not that he was in the age range to be as eager as he used to be, regardless. "Have you seen them any recently?"  


Coryeldil's mouth fell into a subtle frown. "No," He shook his head, and pale strands of hair fell into his eyes. "Not in years."  


Abnur's eye twitched. Much reminded him of Clivia. Or any of his children, really. "You've not even exchanged a letter?"  


"No." Coryeldil stepped away from the clothes that pooled onto the wooden floor, trying to soothe his sudden tensity. Abnur killed the mood. A part of him missed the man he knew that went into these occasions with little distraction. "She ran away from me." He answered, flashed him a striking look, and let his lips move free.  


"Since when were you much concerned with your children, anyways?"  


An aimed blow. Abnur had a talent for inadvertently starting arguments. It took a lot to stop himself from a flinch. "You don't know that." He insisted. "And I've told you, I didn't know that you were with child. I would've sent you gold, done more."  
Coryeldil knew he could be good in that way, heard so. He just heard too late, and was afraid of much of the attention that'd come with confirmation of his child's origin. Even so, he mocked. His voice seemed to raise in jest but his eyes told something different. "Good man, Abnur Tharn."  


Abnur held his tongue. So little he recognized arguments he wouldn't be able to win, but even so he was too tired to argue, too old, really. He sighed and sat further back in the dusty red loveseat, resolving to silently watch as the tall mer navigated to the bed and promptly sat down. Coryeldil felt the same. Decades had passed since he gave birth to the Imperial's child, a decade since she took off from home and never looked back. The pain was fresh but so was his chase for resolve and coming to peace. Angering at the man who helped him make Siinarya wasn't going to bring her back to him. Or them.  


The thought of not just two but all three of them reuniting made his head spin in a way he couldn't pin. He grabbed one of the cloying Khajiiti perfumes set on the nightstand near and rubbed a spritz around his neck, on his arm, behind his pointed ears. Abnur still watched the elf in a tired sort of interest, fingers fiddling and rubbing against and atop one another absently in his lap. They could embrace, at least, like old times. Coryeldil tossed his head. "Well?"  


"Well?" Abnur echoed in question.  


"Come," Coryeldil patted the elegant duvet to his side. "Keep me company."


End file.
